


The heart on my sleeve and the heart in your throat

by Chickenlessbonewing



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: (past) porno droid fun ghoul, 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Injured fun ghoul, M/M, droid fun ghoul, mild body horror, porno droid fun ghoul, robot fun ghoul, robot gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29956479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickenlessbonewing/pseuds/Chickenlessbonewing
Summary: 5 times Ghoul's secret was almost discovered and one time he couldn't hide it.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	The heart on my sleeve and the heart in your throat

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so pissed right now the first time I tried to post this the fucking post button wouldn’t work so I had to retype the tags twice.
> 
> This is why I write my stories in a separate app and then copy paste my work onto here, I’m not losing all my work like that.

1.  
Ghoul was always careful, but this was something he'd done hundreds of times over and he could have easily done it with his eyes closed.  
What he didn't count on was Party Poison kicking the door open, startling him enough for his hand to slip.

"Heya, Ghoulie. You about finished?"  
Ghoul quickly shoved his injured hand under the table, his jaw clenching, "yeah, if I can get some piece and quiet while I'm working I'll be a lot faster."

Poison looked down at where Ghoul was hiding his hand, "you ok there?"  
"Peachy keen if you get out of my workspace."  
Party looked suspicious, but nodded. "Ok, I'll leave you be then, just come out when you're done."  
Ghoul waved him off with his good hand, watching to make sure he shut the door all the way before checking the damage.

He got himself pretty good, the palm of his hand sliced deeply by the jagged metal of the engine he'd found in the burnt out husk of a truck. It was unlikely that there was anything salvageable in the engine but he'd been bored lately, and bored is not something you want to be in the zones.

He hissed as he pulled the artificial skin back a bit and was relieved to see that there was no internal damage. Quickly and with more caution than he had ten minutes ago he grabbed the "skin welder" he'd built and closed his hand back up, watching the skin as it melted back together, leaving only a faint line that you could only see if you really looked for it.  
He'd have to be more careful.

2.  
Hiding it wasn't difficult, his body was built to function as much like a human body as possible with artificial equivalents of actual human organs.

They'd used him in the development of artificial organ replacement for "real people", so they were functional as they could get, thanks to fancy BLI tech. He had a heartbeat, and his coolant system relied of him "breathing" in air and expelling the hot air. He could sleep although he didn't really need to, they even programmed him to dream, mostly just to see if they could, but also so they could give him nightmares. He could also feel both pain and pleasure, the pain was to make it easier to threaten him with torture, and the pleasure was to bribe him.

All in all, they made him as human as possible, their favorite little tinker toy. They spent months building him up and tearing him down, over and over to the point where he wasn't sure if there was any of his original body left.  
Sometimes he forgot he wasn't human, that he was stronger and faster than they were, and that he needed to be mindful not to slip up in front of anybody.

They were at a concert venue, they'd been there for several hours at that point, Party had insisted they take a night to relax and get out of their heads. Ghoul enjoyed concerts, he liked the noise and the pits and the people, the free drinks didn't hurt either.

He couldn't get drunk, but he needed the fluids. He couldn't die of dehydration or starvation, but his body would stop functioning properly. To long without water and his joints would start to lock up and his digestive system would slow down, to long without food and his body would resort to solar power, and while there was plenty of solar power in the desert, he couldn't use any of it. All it would do is keep his operating system from shutting down completely, as that could cause him to lose memories and mess up his data retrieval. Essentially, too long without food and he'd be a vegetable until someone hooked him up to a power source to manually charge him.

Someone knocked into him roughly, causing him to spill half his drink down his shirt.  
"Oh shit, sorry," the guy was big, tall and muscular and obviously drunk, "hey, you're a cute one, what do you say you and me find a nice quiet place to get to know one another?" He leered down at Ghoul.

Ghoul took a step back, accidentally backing into a pillar, "no thanks, I was just about to go back to my friends."  
The stooping hulk of a man took a step forward, blocking Ghoul against the pillar, "aw come on pretty thing, don't be like that. I don't bite, much." He reached a hand up to cares Ghoul's face.

Ghoul scowled up at him, grabbing the man's wrist wordlessly and squeezing.  
The man's smirk slowly turned sour as Ghoul increased pressure, squeezing his wrist hard enough to leave deep bruises.  
"Listen here you little-" the man reached for Ghoul with his other hand, Ghoul dodged under it, freeing himself from the pillar and the man grabbed for his hair, clearly angry.  
Ghoul was annoyed and pissed off, he'd delt with way to many men who felt entitled to his body over the years, and he was way passed sick of it. In a moment of blind rage he grabbed the man's arm and flipped him over his shoulder, the man's lumbering weight connecting to the floor with a loud earth quaking thud.

Ghoul stood over him breathing hard, still angry but satisfied when the man stayed down. It wasn't until he looked around that he realized he was still very much in a crowded venue, and now there was a bunch of people surrounding him staring speechless at the 5'4 scrawny dude that just threw a 6'7 man made of muscle like it was nothing. Shit.  
He turned, ready to shove his way through the gawker's to get to the door, but the crowd parted when he approached and he made it outside without further confrontation.

He shoved open the door and almost ran straight into Jet.  
"Hey dude, I was just about to come looking for you. The other guys are ready to head back, they're waiting in the AM."  
Ghoul smiled, acting like everything was normal as he followed Jet back to the trans am. 

3.  
He was a crack shot, a necessary requirement for what BLI had intended to use him for, he could outshoot any scarecrow any day. That didn't mean he had unlimited ammunition, however. He was down to enough charge for one more shot, and there were two dracs that had him cornered.  
They were casing an abandoned warehouse when they were ambushed, at some point Ghoul had gotten separated from the group.

The dracs were advancing and he was weighing his options, as long as they didn't shoot him in the head, he'd live. Damaged, but alive.

They taunted him, assuming he was completely out of ammo, no backup. Well, he had one shot left, he just needed to make the most of it. He let them get closer, dracs loved when they got to draw out kills, high off some sick power trip. When one of the dracs got close enough, his gun held out and aimed between Ghoul's eye's, Ghoul ducked and grabbed the dracs hand, shooting him in the chest with his last shot.  
There was a searing pain in his side, he took the now dead dracs gun and shot the other drac point blank before he could take another shot at him.

He fell back against a wall of crates clutching his side, waiting for the pain to dull to a more manageable level before he went looking for the other guys. He checked his vest and shirt, cringing at the blast marks. There was no way he could convince them that he hadn't been shot, but at least he could convince them it was just a graze and not anything serious.

He stumbled away from the two ghosted dracs, giving the one that shot him a good kick on his way by. He rounded the corner and hands grabbed him by the shoulders, pinning him to the wall, he relaxed when it was just Party Poison.

"Ghoul, you good? I heard shots fired." He looked Ghoul over quickly, hands instantly going for the burnt fabric at his side.  
Ghoul shoved his hands away, "I'm fine, just grazed. Where's Jet and Kobra?"  
Party didn't look convinced but didn't argue, just motioned for him to follow.

After joining back up with the others and taking out the last remaining dracs, they made quick work of looting what they could. There wasn't much, and every heavy crate Ghoul moved aggravated his injured side, the wreaked skin sending out fresh pain signals every time he moved wrong. He could feel Party's eyes on him, watching as they loaded as much as they could fit into the AM.

He was thankful there was tech for him to work on, it gave him a good excuse to lock himself in the work room.  
He stripped off his shit and hissed at the melted hole in his side, knowing what he'd have to do and hating every second of it.

He grabbed a scalpel and bit down on an old wallet as he carefully cut away the melted skin, revealing his damaged "muscles", He replaced the damaged muscle cords and whipped away the hydraulic fluid that had oozed from the old cords. Lastly he grabbed for his patch kit, cutting out a chunk of grey synthetic skin to replace what he'd had to cut away. He welded on the patch like he'd closed up the cut on his hand, breathing hard as he watched his skin accept the patch, the grey slowly changing to match the rest of his skin.

He knew the pain response served the same purpose for him that it did every other living thing, letting him know when he was injured so he didn't end up breaking his body to the point it was unusable, but it still fucking sucked.

4.  
It was a miscalculation, something you'd think he was unable to do, given the whole "computer brain" thing, but well, sometimes you're just wrong no matter what type of brain you have.  
Wrong is not something you should be when working with explosives.

He was setting up a bomb for a truckload of dracs that were set to drive down this road in less than 30 minutes, the rest of the killjoys were crouched behind a small rock structure close enough to keep an eye on the road but clear of the blast site. The set up went well, the bomb was in place and now they just needed to wait, he was on his way over to the others when it went off prematurely.

He was far enough away to avoid the worst of the blast, but the force still sent him flying, he heard a scream of his name as he hit the ground with enough force to break a significant amount of bones in a regular human body, blacking out momentarily as his body forced him to go limp on impact, an automatic response to minimize fall damage.

He opened his eyes as he was rolled onto his back, Party and Jet looking absolutely terrified.  
"Oh thank the Witch," Jet cursed, seeing that Ghoul was still very much alive, "The fuck happened? You tryina ghost yourself?!"  
Party's hands were on Ghoul, groping his arms and chest for injuries, looking relieved at not finding any but still upset at watching Ghoul get blown sky high.

Ghoul rolled his eyes and sat up, taking Kobra's offered hand and pulling himself onto his feet, "I'm fine, we gotta get the hell outta here before that truck shows up, we're sitting ducks like this and I only brought one bomb."

They quickly used their escape route, Ghoul dodging questions on how he was somehow completely unharmed with "some people are just born lucky", and joking about being made of rubber. It wasn't rubber, but nobody needed to know that.

5.  
Party seemed to have taken some sort of interest in Ghoul over the past few weeks, and seemed to go out of his way to get them alone together as often as possible.  
Ghoul's two main theories as to why were that Party was either suspicious of him, or he was interested interested, and as much as Ghoul liked the idea of the second one, neither would end well.

They were sifting through a mountain of garbage dumped in the desert by BLI, mostly looking for scrap metal and old radios. Party was trying to make small talk, but Ghoul was to distracted by the way Party pushed his sweaty hair out of his face to listen to what he was saying. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts when he almost tripped. He looked down and froze, staring into his own unblinking eyes.  
He was missing the lower half of his face and his head was bald, his naked body was twisted unnaturally, one arm ripped clean off and his skin was torn in places, revealing the robotics underneath, but it was undeniably his eyes that stared back at him.  
He didn't realize he'd stopped walking until Party spoke.

"Oh that's uncanny, he's even got your eyebrows. Looks like a porno droid, wonder what happened to him." Party was looking at the droid with a thoughtful expression, seeming both disturbed and intrigued.  
Ghoul was definitely disturbed.  
"I donno," Ghoul lied. "Probably just broke down." He tried to side step around the body, his body, but Party grabbed his arm.

"It doesn't feel right to just leave him like this." Party's intrigue had shifted into a somber determination, "we should bury him, give him a proper resting place."  
Ghoul wanted to argue, but he knew Party had already made up his mind and honestly, he felt like this was something he needed to do.

They dug a hole a little bit away from the garbage mountain and lowered the droid in, covering him with the dry desert dirt. They found some fake flowers and some large rocks and decorated the grave to the best of their ability, trying to make it look somewhat nice.  
When they'd done all they could they sat together and watched the sun set, and if Ghoul caught Party sneaking glances his way, he didn't mention it.

+1  
Ghoul was distracted, shots whizzed passed him and he could hear as dracs cried out in pain, but his mind wasn't on the fight like it should have been.  
Party had tried to kiss him, he had cupped Ghoul's face and leaned in, and Ghoul had pulled away. He wanted to kiss back, oh how he wanted, but he couldn't, not when he was what he was. Party wouldn't want him if he knew.  
Ghoul took out two dracs but all he could see was the look in Party's eyes when he'd rejected him, it made his stomach twist.

He looked over just in time to see a drac aiming at Party's back, he saw the drac pull the trigger. Party was too far away from Ghoul for him to warn him or push him out of the way, so without time to think Ghoul jumped in between the shot and Party, taking the hit he knew would have killed or severely injured Party.

He let out an involuntarily noise of pain that distorted before abruptly cutting out, clutching at his throat as he fell to the ground. He saw the drac that shot him take a hit to the chest, and then he heard screaming.  
His vision swam as his body tried to process the overload of pain flooding his system, and he felt his body going into temporary sleep mode to keep him immobile while it assessed the damage.  
The last thing he heard before it all went black was Party's frantic voice, but he was to far gone to make out what he was saying.

His systems came back online some time later, his eyes flew open and he took in a sharp breath, wincing at the resulting pain in his throat. He sat up, recognizing that he was in his work room, suddenly Jet appeared at his side.

"Holy Witch dude, you scared the fuck out of us, we thought you were a goner."  
Ghoul tried to respond, to apologise, but no sound came out. He tried again, then stood and made his way to the mirror, the skin at his throat was badly damaged, and he could already tell that his vocal cords were damaged.

Jet looked at him through the reflection in the mirror, realization dawning. "Oh, fuck. Can it be fixed?" He took a step towards Ghoul who turned and grabbed a book from a stack under one of the tables, he opened it to the right page and handed it to jet, pointing to a diagram.

Ghoul grabbed his scalpel and went back to the mirror, he was in the process of raising it to his neck when the door opened, Kobra and Party entering.  
They both froze at the sight of Ghoul, scalpel less than an inch away from his jugular.

Party lurched towards Ghoul, "what do you think you're doing?!" His hand outstretched to grab at the scalpel in Ghoul's fist.  
Ghoul stumbled back and Kobra grabbed Party, pulling him away, "cool it, I think he knows what he's doing, Party."

Jet looked up and looked from the book, his eyes flicking between them all, eventually falling on the scalpel still in Ghoul's hand. "His vocal cords are too damaged for him to speak, we need to see the extent of the damage to determine how to fix it."  
Party shoved away from Kobra, looking sick. He didn't look at Ghoul as he turned and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Don't worry about him, he's just squeamish." Kobra walked over to Jet, looking at the page he had been reading over.  
Ghoul brought the scalpel back up to his neck and made the first incision, cringing at the feeling of slicing into his own flesh as he removed the ruined skin, thankful that at least he wouldn't have to bite down on anything to keep quiet. He inspected his throat, taking note of what was burned and cracked and warped by the heat of the shot.  
Shit. He didn't have the right parts to fix this. This was bad.

He pulled open drawers and searched through boxes, but there was nothing he could use, he slammed his fist on the table out of frustration.  
Kobra put a hand on Ghoul's shoulder, "what do you need and where can we get it?"

He looked at Kobra, who had removed his sunglasses for once. His eyes were sincere. Ghoul grabbed a pen and turned to Jet, circling what he needed in the book and writing quick directions to where he usually found parts, and how to properly extract them without breaking them.  
Jet nodded, "ok, give us a few hours." Ghoul handed Kobra his toolbox, and then they left.

Ghoul sat down, staring at the closed door. Jet and Kobra seemed to take it well. Party... He wasn't sure how Party took it. He let his head fall into his hands, drawing in a breath when it jostled the opening in his neck. What if Party was disgusted that Ghoul had kept this a secret? What if he thought he was secretly working for BLI? What if he thought he was incapable of feeling human emotions? What if he wanted to kick him out of the killjoys? Ghoul got lost in the countless what if's, staring down at the table in front of him.  
The thought of being forced to leave the only family he'd ever known terrified him more than anything.

He startled when the chair across from him scraped on the floor, and he looked up to see Party Poison sitting across from him, staring at him intently.

Party's eyes narrowed slightly, and he slowly reached over to touch Ghoul's face, his fingers brushing Ghoul's cheek. It was then Ghoul realized he was crying.  
"What are you? Droids don't cry, they don't eat, they don't drink, they don't sleep, you do." Party's eye's trailed down Ghoul's face, stopping at his throat, "why are you here?"

Ghoul grabbed a notepad and pen, glancing up at Party before writing, "I was defective. The scientists at BLI decided that I could be useful to them, they experimented on me, trying to see how real they could make me, I escaped."  
He watched Party read what he'd written, trying to read his expression, but Party kept his face neutral.

"Is this why you didn't kiss me? Because you're... Or do you just not feel the same?" Party didn't look up from the notepad, watching as Ghoul wrote his response.  
"I didn't kiss you because I," Ghoul's hand faulted, "I didn't think you'd still want me, if you knew what I was, what I am."

Party looked at him then, his expression softer, "Ghoulie, this doesn't change how I feel about you, you're still you."

Ghoul stared at Party, not knowing what to say.  
Party's eyes narrowed slightly in thought again, "that droid we buried. He had your eyes because..."  
Ghoul nodded, looking away. He could feel Party's eyes on him, looking him over, he shrunk in his seat.

Party looked away again, taking a deep breath, "you know, back before I met you, before I met Jet even, food was hard to come by. We all do what we must to survive. Nobody here will judge you for that."  
Ghoul nodded again, mindful of his neck.

"You don't know how scared I was when I heard you get shot. I turned around and you were already falling, hands around your throat. I thought... I thought you were dying, but you were still breathing, and you had a pulse, and there wasn't any blood, but you weren't moving, and you wouldn't wake up." Party took a steadying breath, "I'm sorry about freaking out when I saw you with the scalpel. I just, I'd just seen you get shot and then I saw you about to slice your neck and I. I panicked."

Ghoul reached over the table this time, taking one of Party's hands into his.  
Party looked down at their joined hands, "Thanks."  
They sat together in silence for a while, just thankful to be alive, thankful that the other was alive.

Jet and Kobra triumphantly kicked open the door later, victoriously presenting Ghoul with the replacement parts He needed.

Party stayed this time, but still looked sickly as he watched Ghoul repair his vocal cords and patch his throat. When Ghoul turned back away from the mirror Party was right next to him, marveling at the lack of scaring, lightly brushing his fingers over Ghoul's Adams apple.  
"Party," Ghoul whispered, shivering at the touch.  
"Ghoul," Party whispered back, leaning in slowly.  
Ghoul didn't pull away this time.

**Author's Note:**

> I might expand upon this idea in between working on my other stories, Idk we’ll see.


End file.
